Film review: "The Fly" (1958) at the Alamo Drafthouse

"The Fly" (1958) inspired two sequels, a 1986 remake which got its own sequel and even an opera, but it's the original we remember for the concept and the many names we know because of this project. George Langelaan, whose short story inspired this movie, was an occultist who knew Aleister Crowley and a World War II spy who had his face surgically altered before going behind enemy lines. Following the war he published often throughout his life but what's remembered is a piece you can read in ten minutes.

David Hedison, who stars at the tragic scientist Andre Delambre, was billed on this film as Al Hedison, a name change I've never heard explained. He's had a lengthy TV career and played Felix Leiter in two Bond movies but this is probably his signature role. He supposedly hates “The Fly” and to this day changes the channel when it comes on TV. 

Patricia Owens as his wife Helene is virtually the only Canadian in the cast of a film set in Montreal. She was mainly a stage actress and like Hedison did much TV. At the time she was a contract player at Fox and this role seems to have been assigned rather than chosen. It is through such happenstance that these unfamiliar names appear in a very familiar movie.

One name you will recognize is Vincent Price, as Andre's brother Francois Delambre. Despite his prominence in the film's advertising, his is a supporting role and thoroughly sympathetic. Like the ringmaster in 1959s “The Big Circus,” Francois is a character you suspect because he's played by Vincent Price. Such casting may be deceptive, but in a film with no obvious villains perhaps they felt this red herring was necessary.

As it was in 1958, the Alamo's presentation on March 16 is in glorious CinemaScope, and seeing the images widescreen is a vast improvement over past screenings on TV or video. The image is grainy in places but otherwise it looks like a good restoration. The color is vibrant with reds and pinks especially prominent, as they often are in films of this era.

Outstanding too is the script, hewing close to the original story and the work of James Clavell, who would later write “Shogun.” Clavell alters the setting from Paris to Montreal but there are few other changes, the script flowing simply with wry touches of humor. What sets this apart is the matter-of-fact tone, the sense that this is not a monster movie, but rather a tragic drama that happens to contain a monster. 

The scene opens in Montreal, at the electronics factory of Andre and Francois Delambre. The security guard who notices the death speaks in a broad Pepe LePew accent, but otherwise the characters sound neither Canadian nor French-Canadian.

Inside the factory Francois discovers his brother Andre has been squashed in the 50-ton hydraulic press, obliterating his head and one arm. Andre's wife Helene admits to operating the press but will say nothing further, even as she looks furtively for a white-headed fly.

Francois, played by Vincent Price with his usual oily charm, contacts Inspector Cheras to get the investigation started. Cheras at first suspects Francois but when Helene blithely describes crushing her husband without remorse or shame, the inspector doubts her sanity. Francois, well aware of the deep love between Helene and Andre, doesn't know what to make of this. Afterward when Helene regains composure, she summons Francois and Cheras to her house and here the real story begins, the balance of the tale presented in flashback. 

Apart from the change of location, the film's major deviation from the short story is the method of flashback, being spoken by Helene rather than read in Andre's diary. The scientist spends the bulk of his waking hours in his basement lab, seeing little of  brother, wife, or son Philippe for weeks at a time. 

Working on a matter-transference machine, early attempts with inanimate objects had their problems. The effects here, with flying sparks and fluorescent lights in many colors, is a joy to see in widescreen. One plate seemingly makes the transference successfully, but the “Made in Japan” stamp on the bottom was reversed. Now obsessed, Andre corrects his formulae and transmits a newspaper, then tries his cat Dandelo, which vanishes in the transporter though his howl remains.

Both Francois and Helene get worried, as neither see much of Andre in the weeks that follow. When he at last escapes the lab, he treats Helene to a night of ballet, then celebrates with a transported bottle of champagne. He then horrifies his wife by repeating the process with a guinea pig and relays his failure with the cat.

She's upset about his experimenting with animals; he jokes about the atoms of their cat floating through space. “It would be funny, if life wasn't so sacred.” Helene begs him to stop but he's on the cusp of a great discovery and needs to perfect the process. Famous last words, as we shall see.

In the days that follow Helene sees even less of her husband at the research goes further. When the cook complains that Andre left his dinner untouched Helene goes to the lab, where a note he slid under the door says to bring milk mixed with rum in a saucer. His head draped in a cloth and one arm obscured, he laps the milk with his tongue as she stares with alarm.

Unable to speak, he communicates by typed messages and a one knock for no/two knocks for yes code system. He demands she find the white-headed fly, the sooner the better as he feels his cognitive skills fading. When she wants more details he reveals he tried transporting himself and his genetic matter mixed with a fly accidentally in the chamber.

In time we see a fly's leg peek from the sleeve of his trenchcoat. Quickly following, in the film's second-most memorable scene, the cloth falls and we see Andre's fly head and his segmented eyes as they see a hundred screaming Helenes in reaction.

Come morning Helene, Philippe and the cook pursue the white-headed fly with only near misses to show for it. The rapidly declining Andre, no longer able to write complete sentences as his mind turns more animalistic, tries to transport without the white fly to no effect. As his human intelligence disappears further, Andre destroys his equipment and lab notes before they can harm others. Taking Helene to the factory, he lies on the hydraulic press and she crushes him twice, the second time to destroy his fly-arm.

The flashback ends and we return to the present, as Helene concludes her story before the inspector and her brother-in-law. Inspector Charles believes none of the story and plans to issue an arrest warrant. When Francois asks what would change his mind, the inspector says “The white-headed fly.”

The officer and the electronics magnate step away from the house to a nearby park, and it's here we see the film's most memorable image. On a spider web hanging from a park bench, a fly with Andre's head and arm shrieks “Help me!” as a spider moves to eat him. The inspector kills the spider and fly, after which he and Francois convince themselves Andre's death was a suicide so Helene can avoid charges.

The final scene seems awkward, a forced attempt to give this a happy ending. Playing croquet in the lawn, Helene, Philippe and Uncle Francois prepare to go to the zoo when Philippe asks about his father and Francois says he died in pursuit of the truth. Maybe it doesn't fit the overall mood of the flick but in a film that plays like a fairy tale, maybe this is the best ending.